


Mercy

by CeceVolume



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 08:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21096803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeceVolume/pseuds/CeceVolume
Summary: What if Chloe hadn't been wearing a bullet-proof vest in 3x24?  How would Lucifer react to losing her?





	Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> I was wondering what would have happened during the S3 finale if Chloe hadn’t had a bulletproof vest when Pierce’s man shot her. And I’ve been dwelling on the angst of Lucifer trying to deal with her death.

MERCY

Blood dripped from his fingers, pooling on the floor to dye the tips of his wings even as the men continued their onslaught of bullets. His body shook from the impact of each, but he ignored the pain as he desperately wiped her hair from her face, listening to her gurgling last breaths.

Despite the chaos all around them, Lucifer couldn’t stop himself from frantically praying to his brothers, his sisters, even his Father. He promised them all anything and everything, whatever they desired of him, so long as they just _fixed this_.

But as he stared into her beautiful eyes, begging her to stay, the bullets stopped registering. As her body sagged into his, gaze unblinking and lifeless as it locked with his, disbelief filled him. He had to be stuck in one of his own rooms in Hell once again, though he couldn’t factor in how. There was no way that Chloe had been forsaken to be collateral damage in the war his father had started; even for Almighty Dad, that was simply too much.

The gunshots slowly quieted around him, forcing him to face the fact that she was gone, lost to him forever. If there was anyone who would pass the bar into Heaven, it was the beautiful, _good_ Chloe Jane Decker. She would be lost to him for eternity in the Silver City, taking his hope and destroying it in one utterly devastating moment.

_He put her in my path to kill her in my arms,_ Lucifer realized as he slowly stood, ignoring the warm feeling of his wings healing as he flexed them to their full span. _He did all of this to hurt me all over again._

Rage, pure and channeled fury, filled him, wrapping around his heart like a well-worn suit of armor. Gunshots rang out in rapid succession once again, but he didn’t feel them—couldn’t. They were pawns in his father’s games, just as he had been, but that didn’t mean they didn’t deserve to be _punished._

Just as he would be for the rest of his immortal life.

He could feel the fires of Hell coming into his eyes, though the rest of him didn’t seem to be following suit, despite how much he would love to torture them with the sight of his true face. Turning to face the fallen Cain, his head twisted and turned, trying to piece together what the man could possibly be thinking with that cocky raise of his chin. Did he think truly think he could fight an ex-Archangel turned Devil with nothing more to lose?

“You think…after what you’ve done…I won’t _punish_ you?” Lucifer snarled, his face an unfeeling mask as he started towards the man masquerading as Marcus Pierce. The men lowered their weapons shakily—less confident this time, he noted with sadistic glee. “You told her you loved her, that she made you want to _live_!” he shouted above the deafening silence as Cain struggled to his feet, pulling out one of Maze’s knives.

With a low, broken chuckle, he answered, “I won’t be intimidated by you, Angel or not.” He took the last steps to go toe-to-toe with Lucifer, spinning the knife almost idly in his fingers as he held it high. “This can kill you even if you aren’t vulnerable, and I actually know how to wield it.”

A responding, mad laugh rang through the air as Lucifer stretched his wings once again as far as they would go. “I assure you, Cain,” he chortled, snatching the man by the neck to throw him into a pillar, “I am _no Angel_.”

As the marble exploded around them, men racing in every direction, he allowed himself to crouch next to his fallen adversary, trying to keep calm enough to enjoy what he was about to do. The immortal man stared up at him, breathing heavily as he cradled his own chest, no doubt from multiple broken ribs.

He was completely at the Devil’s mercy.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Hours later, as police below still swarmed the building, looking for any proof of who had left the Sinnerman/Lieutenant in pieces, Lucifer cradled Chloe’s body to his chest, staring down at her pale, cold face. He hadn’t retracted his bloodstained wings once he’d gotten her to the rooftop, for the first time in many years not caring that they were there. How could anything matter when the detective’s body was limp against him?

Emotional pain threatened to destroy him; the only thing that kept him from shouting it out was stoking his rage at his father, reminding himself that this had all been _His_ plan. Once again, He was playing with His supposedly favorite son, thinking He was scoring just another point.

But what He didn’t know was that there were no more points, no more battles. He’d won the war He’d been so bent on fighting for millennia; Lucifer would show Him what the Devil could do knowing _she_ was watching.

She was out of his reach, but he would make her proud.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Five years, four months, two weeks, and a day had passed in a blur of justice and punishment—what they had once done together. Lucifer had continued working on the fence of the law, finding the culprits. That was where the punishment came in; after so long in Hell, he’d become quite adept at discerning the guilt that drove a human mad. His wings and eyes were of good use, considering he had yet to see the return of his Devil face. Proving that there was an afterlife tended to make mortals quite remorseful despite any of those pesky Deadly Sins they might be harboring.

But nothing filled his nights. There was an emptiness he had never known that no amount of alcohol, drugs, or sex could hope to fill. Why waste time on things that brought him no joy in the first place?

Instead, he ignored countless attempts by his once-friends to get on with his life, ignored their pleas to do more, _be _more…for her memory. They didn’t seem to understand what an eternity without her truly looked like, least of all from his perspective. Soon, he decided, he would move on to a new place; even Dan was beginning to notice that he wasn’t growing any older.

The problem was _where_. Though it killed him to walk the streets she walked, see the things she had seen on the horizon, he wasn’t able to leave. It was the one piece of her that he got to keep, her beloved Los Angeles. He could watch Trixie grow as she had wanted to do, could watch over the people she had loved so they didn’t end up with a fate like hers.

After so long of doing what he wanted, he found that he only wanted to do what _she_ had once wanted.

But he couldn’t go on this way; nothing was fixing what had been broken. No amount of good deeds in her name, no amount of souls being nudged to their eternal damnation was enough.

That day, he’d come to a startling realization: he wanted to go back to Hell. He’d caught himself wishing that he’d never left Hell in the first place, never knew her nor the pain of losing her. Perhaps if he went back to where he truly belonged, he could finally move on, go back to who he was meant to be: a monster.

Except, somehow, he’d stopped feeling like a monster. Despite killing a human for the first time in his existence, he felt no guilt; Cain had been the first murderer, then he’d become _her _murderer. Or, at least, the orchestrater of her murder. He would have continued killing whoever got in the way of his new quest to rediscover his immortality and now the threat was gone. He had not only avenged her, but it had been the _right thing_.

Had she been alive, she might have even been proud of him.

That was what he’d texted his friends. _I need to put an end to this torment,_ he’d written, _and go back where I belong._

Now, as his phone rang from calls and dinged with return messages, he flexed his wings on his balcony, knowing it would be easier for the mortals this way. Linda would understand that he’d left and the others would be able to come to terms with the belief that he’d killed himself to be with Chloe. A perfect ending.

Taking a stabling breath and closing his eyes, he forced himself back to the pits of Hell, relief filling him at the warmth that rushed through him. He would take on a more hands-on approach now in the punishment of the souls there, if only to distract himself.

But when he looked at the Gates and raised his hands, willing them to open…nothing happened.

Snarling, he grabbed them, shaking with all his might. They didn’t budge.

“They won’t open for you any longer,” a voice rang out. _God’s_ voice.

Hissing, Lucifer whipped around, desperately searching for his devious Father. “Show yourself and explain!” he demanded furiously. “After everything you’ve _taken from me_, surely it’s the least you could do!”

No body appeared, but Lucifer knew the feeling of his Father surrounding him. _Omnipresent ass,_ he thought, smirking at the knowledge that He had definitely heard his thoughts.

A chuckle echoed from all around. “That may be true,” the disembodied voice acknowledged, sounding nostalgic and almost…remorseful? “I suppose I haven’t been very fair to you. To any of my angel children, but especially you, Samael.”

“I don’t use that name any longer,” Lucifer snarled, “and you damn well know it.” Turning back to the Gates, he gave another mighty heave, not budging them in the slightest. Hell would be better than having some come-to-Jesus talk with his arrogant Father. _Just because you created the Universe and all it holds…._

“Chloe misses you.”

For a long moment, Lucifer could hardly breathe. Remembering all that had happened, not only between the two of them, but what had come after. He could finally know for certain if she was proud of him, if she regretted losing more time on Earth because he was involved in her life. Perhaps he could even trick his Father into allowing him to visit her, just once.

But then the anger returned. It was _His_ fault that she had been taken in the first place; if He hadn’t sought to punish any that angered Him….

“Like Father, like son, it would seem,” God interjected. “I was young when I cast you out of Heaven, young when I gave Cain the mark.” There was a pregnant pause and the Devil could swear he heard God sigh. “The older I become, the more I realize My mistakes. I was rash when I was younger, much like My children.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes before dropping his gaze to his feet. “You had Michael cast me into Hell because I wanted the free will You so readily gave to the humans,” he murmured, hands clenching on the bars. “I just wanted You to love me as You did them.”

Another long pause, then a pressure that felt like a hand on his shoulder. It was only there for the briefest second, but Lucifer felt it squeeze. “I was not—have not been—a good Father to you. I tried to show you what I meant, sending Chloe into your path—”

Spinning around, though he knew there was no one to focus his fury on, Lucifer roared into the darkness, “You sent her into my path to let her _die in my arms_. If You wanted to see me suffer, You should have just torn the heart from my chest!” His wings unfurled brutally and his eyes blazed. “Stop acting like You had any intention other than scoring another point against me! You and I _both_ know You’re still trying to punish me!”

“I’m sorry I made you feel this way, My son. But that has not been My plan for a very long time.”

An apology? After everything? Could he even accept it?

Turning back to the Gates, Lucifer muttered, “Let me go home. I’ve learned my lesson; I must remain in Hell.”

Otherwise, he would be open to the pain of the emotions he’d learned he was capable of. If he returned to Earth, all he would bring was destruction, spiraling into monstrousness once again. He would disappoint her if he returned to the mortal realm, and he couldn’t risk that.

“Your home isn’t in Hell any longer, Sama—Lucifer.”

Tensing, not even daring to hope, the fallen angel asked, “And where _exactly_ is my home, _Dad_? Do you plan to make me mortal?”

Over the years since Chloe’s death, he had thought about it every once in a while. What if he had been mortal? Cain had come to Los Angeles because of Lucifer’s presence there; would he have if Lucifer weren’t the Devil? Would he have taken Chloe’s life?

What could they have had, had he not been an immortal fallen angel?

God softly whispered, “I plan to bring you _home_, where you should have been all these eons. Where you can finally have the peace I have taken from you. Where Chloe is.”

A shuddering breath escaped his lungs, his mind unable to process what he’d just been told. A flash of light exploded behind him and he turned back, seeing the faint outline of a humanoid figure that he recognized as his Father. He was not only giving His son everything he could have dreamed of…He was revealing Himself for the first time in history to His rebellious son.

“Don’t rub it in too much to your siblings, son. I have many wrongs to right, starting with you.”

Another flash of light and Lucifer had to close his eyes against the power of it, throwing his arm up for added protection.

Then the smell of flowers and fresh air replaced brimstone and sulfur.

-.-.-.-.-.-

She couldn’t help herself as she stared at him, his eyes blinking away the startling light around them. Though Chloe had watched him alongside their friends and her family for years, for the first time she could reach out and touch him, smooth the messy hair that fell against his forehead.

She’d known he’d stopped being the coiffed, well-dressed man over recent years, letting his hair grow a touch too long, shaving a little too infrequently. Even the suit he wore was lightly rumpled, like he was trying to look his best but couldn’t muster up the energy to do so.

But with his huge white wings spread out behind him, he looked exactly as she had dreamt he would once they were together again.

“It was all true,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she took several slow steps towards him. “They weren’t metaphors.”

At the sound of her voice, it was like everything in the Universe stopped for them. His eyes finally adjusted and landed on her face, roving wildly as if he was sure she was some sort of imposter. She supposed she was doing the same to him, desperately hoping that this wasn’t some Heaven-sent vision. Of course, she’d gotten promises from an angel she assumed had very high standing that he would right the wrongs of the past.

“Detective?” he asked quietly, hope blazing in his eyes as he matched her step for step. “This is real?”

With a watery laugh, she stopped with any pretense, racing into his arms as they spread. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she inhaled his familiar cologne, embraced the gentle yet firm way he’d always hugged her. If he wasn’t really him, she could make do because they’d done a damned good job on the replica. “I missed you,” she murmured, turning her face up towards his. “I’m so sorry I left.”

He flinched, staring at her in wonder. “I missed you, Detective,” he returned, leaning his forehead against hers as his eyes slowly slid closed. “And I’m sorry for what I _did_ when you left.”

Bringing her hands to either side of his face, she forced him to look at her. The brokenness in his gaze, the anxious need for her approval of everything he’d done, tore her heart in half. “Don’t, Lucifer. Don’t do that to yourself. It’s done and the world is a better place because of what you did. Pierce…_Cain_ would have kept killing.”

“I showed him no mercy, Chloe,” he said, clenching his eyes shut. “I quite literally tore him apart, leaving him for Daniel and Ella to find like that.”

“I also know that you kept working with LAPD and started—kind of—doing things by the book,” she laughed, remembering one case in particular where he had broken the killer’s hand when he’d raised his weapon at Dan. “And that you set up a college fund for Trixie anonymously. The chocolate cake for all her birthdays was a nice touch, even if they were three feet by three feet.”

A small smile crossed his lips. “Your offspring certainly enjoys chocolate cake.”

As their quiet laughter settled, he looked into her eyes just as he had done while she was alive, searching for some answer, something to say that he didn’t know how to. The moment lasted forever as she tried to give him whatever it was he needed to let it out, to say or do what he had to.

“I love you, Chloe,” he finally murmured in a rush, sounding almost dazed.

Then, with tears in their eyes, their lips met and in that time, everything was right for the first time in too long a time.

-.-.-.-.-.-

“You…You let him go back to Heaven?” the Goddess whispered through the small crack between universes. She’d created Her own “telephone” as She called it between their worlds, sealing any temptation to cross to the other side by making it barely large enough for Their voices to squeeze through.

With a sigh, God looked towards the void She’d created, murmuring, “I’ve done many things wrong in My life, Goddess. It’s time I—as the humans say—practice what I preach; it’s time I show mercy.”

“But who will run Hell?” She demanded, suspicion practically dripping from Her tone. “How long until You send him back?”

He squeezed His eyes closed, regret filling him at the knowledge that He had destroyed Their family all on His own. “I am omnipresent, omniscient, and all-knowing; I should be able to handle it Myself. Sama—Lucifer deserves to be free of a punishment he should never have faced.”

A long pause from the other side then a whispered, “Both of Us have made Our own mistakes. All We can do now is try to fix them.”

He nodded, wishing He could reach through and pull Her back to His side. Maybe in a few more millennia Their family could once again be whole. But allowing Lucifer back into Heaven…it was a pretty good start.


End file.
